


Shocking Proclivities

by Chickenpets



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Chocolate, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Flogging, Fun Times Were Had By All, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sex, Restraints, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Safewords, Switching, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Severus Snape, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23789068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickenpets/pseuds/Chickenpets
Summary: Severus has noticed Draco Malfoy staring at Harry Potter, which would usually be cause for reprimand, if not outright intimidation. Luckily for Draco, however, Harry brings out Severus' most generous impulses.**“W-what?” Draco spluttered, turning pink. “Like - as a - a - third?”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 134
Kudos: 755
Collections: Emergency Thirst Aid Station





	1. The Third

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Shocking Proclivities](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747354) by [Mortiferum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortiferum/pseuds/Mortiferum)



“I’ve seen you looking at Harry Potter,” Severus said, folding his hands over his desk and regarding Draco steadily. Draco was sitting back in the single chair, his legs crossed and his expression closed. 

“Looking at him, sir?” 

Draco could recognize a trap when he saw one. He knew that Severus Snape and Harry Potter had been engaging in an illicit student-teacher affair for months, and he also knew Snape pretty fucking well, having spent years mentored by him under the watchful eye of the Dark Lord. Snape was possessive, and controlling, but he was also extremely intelligent. So, he couldn’t possibly have called Draco to his office to warn him off, could he? Surely Professor Snape was too cautious to tip his hand that way just to scare off a would-be rival, no matter how much he might like to. 

“Yes,” Severus continued. “Or perhaps a more correct term might be _staring.”_

“Sorry,” Draco answered. “He’s… uh. Pretty good-looking.”

Understatement of the century. Harry Potter was fucking gorgeous, and after the war ended, and the expiration date on his forehead had been proved incorrect, he’d really changed. He was happy, and funny, and he seemed much less prone to outbursts of rage. So, when the veterans returned to school to complete their final year, Draco had found himself rather liking Potter. He’d saved Draco from that awful fire in the Room of Requirement, and he’d faced down the Dark Lord, and released Draco from bondage, and he was sort of… calm, now. Friendly. And, of course, gorgeous.

But it wasn’t just his brilliant green eyes, or glowing skin, or status of _hero celebrity_ that had made Draco really start looking at him. The triggering event for that had been a single glimpse of a bite-mark on Harry’s shoulder. Draco had seen it in the locker rooms after a pick-up game of quidditch, and, in seeing it, Harry Potter had been instantly and irrevocably transformed from a tentative friend to the focus of every wank Draco had enjoyed since that day. That mark had made him sexual to Draco in a way he’d never been before. Fuckable, because someone was _fucking him._

And _then._ Then, Draco had set about trying to figure out who in Merlin’s name was giving him marks like that, and it became clear without much investigation that, unlikely as it seemed, it had to be Snape. There was literally _no one else_ that could be doing it.

Professor Snape was teaching, and criticizing, and harassing, and _fucking_ Harry Potter in a manner that left _bite marks_ on him. And that… was not something that could be ignored. And here Draco was, in Severus Snape’s office, and he was probably about to be threatened with silence or death. 

“I know he is.”

Draco blinked. “Good-looking?” he asked, not daring to trust his own ears.

“Well, I am a rather lettered man, Draco,” Severus intoned. “I might more freely speak of his radiance.”

Draco stared at him. What kind of reckless admission was _that?_ Sure, Harry was radiant. Blinding. A shining star. But… Severus Snape was not supposed to say that out loud. 

He searched Snape’s eyes.

“Don’t feign ignorance,” Severus said. “You are aware that Potter and I have… an arrangement. I know you are.”

“I - uh. Yeah. I am aware of that.” _I am going to die._

“Well. Potter has noticed you looking at him.”

“Sorry,” Draco repeated slowly. “I didn’t mean to - step on your toes or anything. Sir.”

Severus smirked and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t doubt it. Luckily for you, Draco, Mr. Potter brings out my most generous impulses, and he has expressed some… interest… in inviting you to join us.”

Draco was glad Snape hadn’t offered him tea, for he surely would have spat it out.

“W-what?” he spluttered, turning pink. “Like - as a - a - third?”

Severus seemed rather pleased by his discomfort. “Yes,” he said. 

Draco did not even try to control his color. There was no point, not with his complexion. So, intead, he just said: “Am I dreaming?” And Snape laughed. It was a low, scornful chuckle, and it raised the hairs on Draco’s arms.

“Have you dreamt about that before?” he asked, and Draco flushed still deeper. Because yes, he had. He’d had… a couple of dreams. Fifty, maybe. He didn’t speak. “Mr. Malfoy,” Severus continued. “It is my great interest to satisfy Mr. Potter’s every whim. As you say, he is… captivating. And I have found myself lucky enough to have him in my bed. So.” He steepled his fingers. “He’s seen you staring. He thinks you want him, and he believes you might be an interesting addition.”

“I - am having a hard time dealing with this.”

“I thought you might. Let me make it easy for you. Do you want him?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s mine. Care to share?”

“Uh… yes?”

Severus became abruptly businesslike. “Very good. Before I issue you a formal invitation, however, there are a few things to be discussed.”

“Like… discretion?” Draco hazarded. Even though he and Potter were both of age, he was pretty sure that propositioning either of them was absolutely verboten. But when had Severus Snape ever followed the rules? Draco himself had witnessed Snape do awful things during the war. And great things, too, of course. And everything in between.

“That goes without saying, yes,” Severus said. “I speak of more practical matters, however. Mr. Potter has some proclivities that you might find shocking.”

“Proclivities?” Draco squeaked, and then cleared his throat, and tried again. “I mean… I uh. Maybe have some idea. I saw… a mark on him.”

“Oh? What sort of mark?”

“A… bite.”

Severus pursed his lips. “I’ll have a word with him about that. Although, if that is the only one you’ve seen, I suppose he deserves a reward for being as subtle as he has been. It does not come naturally to him, as I’m sure you know. He’s a Gryffindor.”

Draco’s ears rang. _He deserves a reward._ “Oh,” he said. “You’re his…. Oh.” Severus Snape was Harry’s _master._ Of course he was. Holy hell.

“Does that alarm you?”

Draco swallowed. “I - uh, I wouldn’t say I am… alarmed.” He was hard, that's what he was. Right there, sitting in Snape’s office, thinking about Harry Potter having a _dominant,_ hard as fucking steel. What a left turn his life had just taken. He shifted a little in his chair. “He’s been very - even-tempered lately. I suppose you’ve been helping him with his… stress.”

“You might say that.”

“I’m - well - I’m not really into pain,” Draco said slowly, his eyes flicking to the floor and then back up.

“I didn’t think so,” Severus answered. “I only inquire as to your tolerance for witnessing certain things.”

Draco glared at him. “I was a Deatheater, _Sir,”_ he sneered. “I can _tolerate_ witnessing quite a lot.”

Severus did not return his venom. “And why do you think I am inquiring? It would hardly do to have a panic-attack while Potter is spread out underneath you, would it?”

Well, that was an image. Draco’s mouth went dry. “Oh. Right. No. Of course not.”

“Do you think that will be a problem? Be honest.” 

Draco thought about it. His nightmares were still dreadful, but they were pretty specific. “Honestly, Sir? I think it would depend.”

“On what, pray tell?”

“On exactly what you’re doing to him.” He could not believe he was having this conversation. If he woke up in his dorm after this he would lose his fucking mind. 

“Hard limits?” Severus asked. He splayed his hand out on the desk like he wanted to reach for a quill, and Draco watched the movement, rather expecting a contract to unfurl out of the air like he was signing his soul to the devil.

“Blood,” he said. “No blood. And -” he hesitated. Surely this did not need to be said, but who knew? Potter was mental, and _hot,_ and having deviant sex with Severus Snape. Who knew what sorts of things they got up to? “No - no unforgivables.”

Severus gave another low chuckle. “Oh, you needn’t worry about that, Draco. Although there is some merit to the imperius curse in certain situations, he prefers that I use my hands.”

 _Sweet, merciful Merlin._

“Right,” Draco said.

“Anything else?”

“Uh - no… no. I think that’s it. But…”

“If you feel uncomfortable and wish to stop, we use a color system. Red indicates the end of the scene for any party. Or, it would. Harry has never said it.”

The abrupt switch to Harry’s given name was not lost on Draco, and it suddenly hit him that this man was offering him an incredible gift. He was going to get to touch Harry Potter. See him naked. Watch him come, maybe. Or… make him. And what a fucking gift. 

Was this a trap?

“Sir?” he began. “May I ask you something?”

“If you like.”

“Are you going to kill me afterwards?”

That time his laugh was more real, and it took Draco rather by surprise. “No, Draco. Unless, of course, you do something to Harry that Harry does not want done to him. In that eventuality, I might kill you, yes.”

“Was that a joke?”

“Come to my rooms at midnight. The password is nightshade. You are dismissed.”

***

11:45 that evening found Draco primping in front of his mirror. What in Merlin’s name did one wear to a _ménage à trois_ with a boyhood rival and a Professor? Leather? His uniform? God.

He settled for a plain black button-down and slacks, and combed his hair, and left the Slytherin common room with minutes to spare. Snape’s quarters were not far, and as he strode through the echoing hallway, he suddenly had the thought that Harry Potter had probably been down here getting absolutely _destroyed_ this whole year. He wondered when they’d begun. Professor Snape had returned to teaching mere months after his brush with death, and Draco had heard something from the other survivors - that Harry had been with him in his last moments. Maybe they’d gotten involved even _before-_

He was at the door. 

_Well, here goes nothing. Gonna see your head of house naked, probably. At least it isn’t Slughorn anymore. And Snape must be hung like a bloody horse to have bedded Potter. Might be pretty impressive._

_Okay, Draco, lets stop thinking about Snape’s cock, shall we? You’re going to see Harry naked. That is the point. Harry Potter naked. Yes._

He took a deep breath, and laid his palm flat on the wood.

“Nightshade,” he whispered, and there was a little metallic click, and the door swung open. He’d never been in Professor Snape’s personal quarters before, but they were pretty much what he’d been expecting. Dark, and spotless, but not particularly spartan. The deep chestnut of the wood floor and paneling gave the room an air of luxury, and the wall-to-wall books gave it substance. He looked around, and almost jumped out of his skin as he caught sight of Snape sitting in a leather armchair with a glass of port.

“Holy f- hello,” Draco gasped, pivoting mid-expletive to try to save face.

“Oh, lovely,” Severus answered, standing up. “You’re very punctual. I was hoping you would be. It would be such a shame to waste the work I’ve done so far tonight.” He beckoned, and Draco followed after him, suddenly wishing he’d had a glass of port, too. And then he wished he’d had a _bottle_ of port, as Severus pushed open the door to his bedroom, and Draco’s eyes fell on the bed.

He was shocked into absolute silence, and Severus’ hand slid around his waist, tugging him back against the solid warmth of his body. 

“Don’t pass out, now,” Severus breathed into his hair.

Harry Potter was on his back in the center of the bed, blindfolded, with his wrists fastened to the corners of the headboard with heavy leather straps. He was panting, and naked, and hard, and his chest and stomach and thighs were covered with red welts. 

“I think I’m gonna pass out,” Draco managed, as every ounce of blood in his body rushed straight to his cock. Severus’ breath was hot as he laughed again, that deep, hushed chuckle that Draco had never heard before that morning in his office, and was now quite sure he would never, ever forget. “Lord in Heaven.”

“Yes, quite.”

Harry’s head turned a little towards their voices, and he made a weak, questioning sort of noise, and Severus pushed Draco further into the room and closed the door.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, and then approached the bed and turned his attention to the feast tied up there. Draco watched, captivated, as Severus ran his fingertips up from Harry’s ankle to his bare leg, and further, over his hip and waist, and chest, and then up into his hair. Even from where Draco was standing, he could see the goosebumps that Snape’s touch called up over Harry’s skin, and was abruptly so jealous that his paralyzing shock vanished. He started taking off his clothes.

“What a good boy you’ve been,” Severus murmured, stroking his fingers against Harry’s scalp. “Waiting for me for so long.” Harry whimpered, and Draco, toeing off his shoes, wondered if he was going to humiliate himself by getting off fucking instantly. Whatever he had expected, this was not it. This was so much worse, and so much _better,_ and how in God’s name was Snape being so tender with him when he’d obviously made all those marks? 

His eyes caught on a flogger on the floor beside the bed as he pushed down his slacks, and he looked away from it and back to Harry and Snape.

Severus had braced his hands on either side of Harry’s head and was leaning over him, letting the tips of his hair tickle him, and Harry’s body arched up off the bed, and he whined, and his toes curled, and Draco let out a little gasp himself at the sight of it. Severus glanced back at him, and Draco, skewered by the look in his eyes, suddenly wasn’t quite so sure that he wasn’t into pain. Right at the moment he felt that he would do absolutely whatever Severus Snape told him to do.

Severus turned back towards Harry and kissed him, supporting his head in one hand, and Harry’s fingers twitched in their restraints like he wanted badly to use his hands. And he probably did. 

“I’ve a gift for you, my love,” Severus said against his mouth. “Would you like it? You’ve been so good. So patient.”

Harry answered so quietly that Draco could not hear what he said, but apparently it was some sort of _yes,_ because Severus reached back for him with one hand. Draco just looked at it for a moment, wondering if he should be offended at being referred to as a _gift,_ but took it all the same, and allowed himself to be drawn closer. He was a gift for Harry? Fine.

“Go on,” Severus said. “Speak to him. He’s very far down just now, though. It might take a bit to make him listen.” He pushed Draco into the spot he’d occupied beside the bed, and ran his hands down his naked back. They were calloused, and warm, and Draco felt his body responding just the same way Harry’s had. With goosebumps. “Go on. Don’t be shy. He asked for you.”

“Um,” Draco began hesitantly, looking at the leather cuffs around Harry’s wrists, and the redness of the skin underneath, and then to the flush across Harry’s cheeks juxtaposed against the black blindfold. He couldn’t feel his legs. “That is really - wow.” Harry’s head turned fractionally.

“Draco?” he asked in that same soft, dazed tone, and a shiver ran through Draco’s body from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. Had Harry ever called him by his first name? Ever? He didn’t think so. And certainly not like _that._

He swallowed. 

“Yes,” he answered. “It’s me. Would you mind if I - I mean. Can I - touch you?” He felt Severus’ hands leave him, and the heat of his body withdraw, and he looked over his shoulder. Severus had conjured a chair, and was sitting in it with his bloody glass of port. Draco turned back with a little flush of embarrassment at being watched. “Can I?” he repeated. Harry gave him a vague hum of encouragement, so he reached out. 

He touched Harry’s hand first, just the palm, and slid his fingertips lightly over the restraints and down the tender inside of his arm, and Harry shied back with a little gasp. Oh, he was ticklish. That was… charming. 

“Sorry,” Draco breathed, and touched him a little more firmly, but Harry just lifted his head with a little murmur and dropped it back.

“He wants you to kiss him,” came Severus’ voice. “I think you should. He’s quite desperate.” Draco’s head was spinning, but that came through pretty clear, and he braced his hands beside Harry’s head the way Severus had done, and leaned over him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, “I’ve wanted to for - just - _ages.”_ Harry exhaled, and murmured again, and licked his lips, and that seemed like a yes, so Draco did. 

Harry tasted even better than he'd ever dared imagine. Warm, and inviting, and clean, and animal, and there was a little tang of red wine, too. He opened his mouth, and Harry’s mouth opened underneath his, and he sank his fingers into Harry’s black hair, bringing one knee up onto the mattress beside him to get more. He heard a clinking sound as Harry’s arms pulled down against the cuffs, and Draco was pretty sure that meant he liked it, so he pressed his tongue into Harry’s mouth, and cupped the back of his head the way Snape had done. The restraints clinked again, and Harry whined softly, and Draco was definitely going to embarrass himself tonight. This was unbearable.

“Tug back,” Severus said, and Draco obediently tightened the fingers in his hair, but that didn’t seem to be what he meant. _“Harder,_ Draco. Tug. Him. Back.” It felt rather like a flashbulb popping behind his eyes, and he jerked Harry’s head back against the pillows, and Harry let out a wretched moan. 

“Fuck,” Draco breathed, breaking away to look down at him. “He likes that?”

“Yes, he does,” Severus answered him. “He likes almost everything.”

“Draco,” Harry whined, pressing his heels into the mattress and lifting his hips. _“Please.”_

“Holy god,” Draco moaned.

“Go on,” Severus urged him. “He’s begging. Give him more.”

Draco looked from Severus in his chair, to Harry’s naked body. “I don’t…” Harry’s hands pulled down hard, like he thought he could break the straps.

 _“Please-”_ he whined again, a little more forcefully. _“Please - please-”_

Was it embarrassing to be watched? Yes. Was that the hottest thing Draco had ever heard in his life? Also yes.

Draco got on top of him and seized his head with both hands, pinning it back against the bed and kissing him hard, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Severus said something from behind him, and it might have been, _‘better,’_ but Draco didn’t really hear it. He was focused on Harry. On his mouth, and his cock, nestled up between his legs, and the way he went fucking _weak_ at that small show of force. Before today, Draco had always assumed Harry was a top. He could be pretty aggressive - pretty forceful, and even violent, sometimes - and Draco had spent many nights fantasizing about getting on his knees, or being bent over a desk. But obviously he’d been severely mistaken. Harry Potter was not a top, or even a bottom, really. He was _submissive._ He was tied up in the dungeons, and blindfolded, and flogged, and loving it, and he said, _‘please,’_ he said, _‘Draco, please,’_ and holy _FUCK._

Draco ground down against him, and Harry tensed and pressed up with another little gasp into his mouth, and Draco held him down harder, and ground down _harder,_ and a hand seized his hair and yanked his head back.

“If you get him off too soon you won’t get to ride him,” Severus growled into Draco’s ear, triggering a fresh wave of goosebumps down his back. 

“Ah - fuck-” he yelped. “Is - that - on the table?” Severus released him and he fell back, bracing his hands on Harry’s thighs behind him, and Harry flinched and cried out.

 _“Severusss,”_ he whimpered, tossing his head. _“Don’t - don't do that - Don’t take him off-”_

“Stop that,” Severus said, and when Harry twisted and thrashed between Draco’s legs, he slapped him across the face. “I said _stop.”_ He grabbed Harry’s jaw to turn his head back to center. “You come when I say you come and not before, do you understand me?”

Draco could feel Harry’s cock twitch under his thigh, and Merlin, he had never seen anything like this before. Fucking _madness._

“Yes, Sir,” Harry whispered, and Severus let him go.

“Very good. Continue,” he said, and Draco stared at him. 

“What do you want me to - I mean. I’m not supposed to make him…?” He looked back down at Harry, panting, his cheek red, and a smear of precome on his belly. “How long have you had him like this?”

“Oh, a while,” Severus answered evenly, and Harry let out a strangled little sob. “As I said, he’s quite desperate. About to burst, really.” Draco gazed down at him, worrying his lower lip in his teeth. “Maybe you’d like his mouth,” Severus suggested. “He is quite good with it.” 

Harry swallowed and parted his lips when Severus said that, and Draco reevaluated his earlier feeling that Harry’s _‘please,’_ had been the hottest thing ever. Now he was thinking he might have been using the wrong scale for his entire life _._

“Can I?” he asked Harry, and Harry nodded hard, so Draco shifted forward. But then he stopped as Harry shrank towards the sheets with a little cry. It must be the welts. They probably hurt a lot - a few of them were starting to bruise - and he’d just dragged his legs across them like an asshole. He was so hard he could barely think straight, but this treatment seemed a little… harsh. Harry was - _Harry Potter._ He was the most precious treasure in all the Wizarding World. Surely he didn’t want to be handled quite as roughly as this. Surely he wanted… romance, or worship, or - fancy dinners, or _something._

Something other than being slapped right in the face. Or, at least, one would assume. 

“Sir?” Draco asked. 

“Yes?”

“How do you check if he’s… enjoying himself?”

“He’s enjoying himself,” Severus answered. “But if you are concerned…” he trailed off, and moved to the other side of the bed, climbing up to kneel beside Harry’s body. He was fully dressed, but all the same, Draco could see how… interested he was.

“Harry,” Severus said, his voice coaxing, brushing his knuckles gently down Harry’s cheek. It was the one he’d slapped, and Harry trembled and turned into the touch. “Tell me your safe word.”

“R-red,” he whispered.

“Do you want to use it?” 

“No.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“NO.”

Severus turned back to Draco and raised his eyebrows. “Do you want Draco to fuck your mouth?”

“Y-yes.” It came out as a squeak. 

“Yes, what?” Severus asked, holding Draco’s gaze.

“Yes, Sir,” Harry whispered. “Please. Please.”

Severus gave Draco a little smack on the thigh and he jumped. “You look like you’ve been fatally dosed with belladonna,” he said. “Have at him.” 

Draco did not need to be told twice, and he scooted forward until his knees were on either side of Harry’s chest, bracing one hand on the headboard. Harry opened his mouth, and Draco steadied himself with his other hand, dragging the head of his cock over Harry’s lips with a little moan of anticipation. But then, he hesitated. This boy had dragged him from the jaws of death. Was he really going to treat him like this?

“But - what if I - hurt him?” he asked, watching as Harry lifted his head a little off the pillows to try to get more. 

“He can hear you, Draco. He’s not deaf.”

“I just mean - he doesn’t have his… hands. What if I-”

“If you hurt him he’ll like it and beg for more, idiot,” Severus drawled. “Look at him.”

“Right,” Draco murmured. “He likes it. Right. I… forgot.” He pressed forward into Harry’s mouth, and Harry moaned and jerked his arms down against the restraints, and Draco withdrew minutely and thrust in again, sliding against his tongue and towards the back of his throat. “Fuck,” he choked out. “Potter - God that’s _perfect.”_

“He can take more,” Severus said, and Draco’s blissfully blank brain suddenly recalled that Severus Snape was _right next to him on the bed,_ dressed all in black like Satan himself, urging him to _use_ Harry fucking Potter, and he wrapped his fingers around the headboard and thrust forward hard. 

“God,” he moaned again as the wet heat of Harry’s mouth closed around him, and he began to move in earnest, pulsing his hips forward, but then Harry made a little choking noise, and he withdrew at once. “Ah - I’m sorry,” he said, and Harry swallowed and scraped his teeth over his lower lip. 

“No,” he breathed. “I want - Harder.”

“Oh, shit,” Draco answered, and obeyed.

_Harder. Ok. Fuck his mouth. That’s what he said he wanted. Just… have him._

He pressed in all the way to the base, and that time, when Harry made that same little noise, he did not stop. Instead, he held himself still with Harry’s nose pressed against his stomach, and clutched the headboard like it was a fucking life raft, and Harry resisted hard against the straps holding him still, and his legs drew up, and Severus seized his ankles and pulled them back down. 

“Harry,” Severus said. “Be good.”

Draco withdrew, letting Harry suck in a single, desperate breath, before plunging back in. “He - likes it?” he asked, tangling one hand into Harry’s hair to tug his head forward into each thrust. 

“Oh, yes,” Severus answered. “He’s _dripping.”_

“Fuuuckk,” Draco groaned, his eyes jumping from Harry’s hands clenching and unclenching above his head, to his wet, red lips, to the black _blindfold_ and _fuck -_ “I’m - gonna -” he tried to pull back, but Severus’ hands appeared on his hips and pressed them forward.

“He likes to swallow,” he growled, and Draco was overcome. He cried out, knocking his own forehead into the wall as he curled forward, and Harry did swallow. Harry swallowed and swallowed again, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of him until he felt he might actually pass out after all. And then was being dragged backward, and out of Harry’s mouth, and almost off the edge of the bed as Harry gasped for air, and coughed, and said Severus’ name with such incredible abandon that Draco, barely catching himself before he pitched onto the floor, knew that he would never be able to even _think_ the name _Severus_ again without remembering that sound. 

“Shh, shh,” Severus murmured, brushing the damp hair back from Harry’s forehead, and wiping the corner of his mouth, but Harry was having none of his tenderness. He dug his feet into the bed and pressed his hips up again, and Draco saw that he _was_ dripping, so hard his cock was purple, and Draco abruptly wanted nothing more than to give him relief. Harry needed to get off - he _needed it -_ it was so fucking _obvious -_ what kind of despicable lunatic could stand to leave him like that?

“Professor Snape,” he began, crawling back over to them. “Let me - Let me - _please-”_

“No,” Severus answered, holding out a hand. “He doesn’t mean it.”

Harry let out a snarl of rageful frustration, arching up off the bed, and Severus seized his throat and pinned him back down. 

“NO,” he repeated, his voice hard, and Harry went still with a squeak of fear.

“You really are a sadist, aren’t you?” Draco breathed, and Severus shot him a look.

“No, I am not,” he said. “But my lover is a terrible masochist.” He turned his focus back on Harry. “Aren’t you?” Harry pressed his lips together and Severus tightened his fingers. _“Answer me.”_

“Yes, Sir,” he gasped. 

“You’re frightening your guest, you know. Do you want me to stop?”

_“Noooo.”_

“Tell him, then.”

_“Severus -”_

“Say it.”

Harry’s lips trembled, and his cock twitched, and he turned his face towards his arm, whispering against his own skin. 

“Speak up.”

_“Please - don’t - stop - I don’t - want - to - stop.”_

Severus released him. “You, my love, need to cool off,” he said, patting Harry’s cheek. He stood up and turned to Draco. “Would you like a drink?”

“Oh my fuck, are you kidding?” Draco asked back. “He’s-”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Severus interrupted, and went out into the parlor. “Oh, and Draco,” he called back. “If you lay a finger on him while I’m gone I’ll have your head.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Lovebirds

Draco looked down at Harry shaking and sweating on the bed. 

“Hey,” he said gently, and Harry turned his face back towards his arm, panting pitfully. “Did I go too hard?” Harry shook his head _no._ “Was it… good?” He nodded _yes._ “Do you… want some water or anything?” He nodded his head again, _yes,_ but before Draco could call out to ask for some, Severus reappeared with a glass of port for Draco and a glass of water with a straw. 

“Oh,” Draco said, unable to hide his surprise, and Severus quirked an unkind eyebrow at him as he handed over the wine. 

“Do you think I don’t know how to take care of my own submissive?” he asked, and sat beside Harry on the bed, holding out the glass for him to drink. 

“I - uh - have no idea what is happening, honestly,” Draco answered, watching Harry’s flushed lips seek for the straw and close around it. “God, how is that also hot?” 

“He’s quite addictive, isn’t he?” Severus asked by way of an answer, and when Harry had drained nearly the whole glass, took it away and put it on the bedside table. That time, when he smoothed his hands over Harry’s cheek and hair, Harry did not respond with fury, and Draco watched with almost religious awe as he murmured weakly and turned his face to kiss Severus’ palm. 

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, please.”

“What sweetness,” Severus answered. “What are you asking for?”

“Can I - can - I - _please -_ Severus, _please -_ let me come - I need it - _I need it - please.”_

Draco drained his glass in a single swallow and almost choked on it, and Severus turned to look at him. His eyes were hot, and dark, and so deeply penetrating that Draco almost flinched back. This was a very new side of Severus Snape he was seeing tonight, and he wasn’t entirely sure he liked it. 

No, that was bullshit. He liked it. It was just… scary.

“And what would Mr. Malfoy like to do for you, hmm?” Severus asked, drawing one knuckle down Harry’s jaw and under his chin. “He’s been staring at you for months and months. Watching you walk the corridors with your friends. Watching you on the Quidditch pitch, and in the Great Hall. He must want you very badly. What would he like to do for you?”

“I will do absolutely anything,” Draco breathed. “And you… are fucking terrifying.”

Severus’ lip twitched. “So I’ve heard.” He ran his nails down Harry’s chest and Harry’s head curled up off the pillows with a shallow, shaky inhale. “Pay attention, Harry. What do you want from Draco? You asked for him. What do you want?”

“I - I -” his head fell back. “I - don’t - _know.”_

“Mm. Let me help you, then. Do you want his mouth? Or his hands? Or do you want him on top? You might not last very long at all if he did that. Maybe if you come too soon I’ll have you after. Would you like that?”

“Oh _god,”_ Harry moaned, his feet flexing.

“I’ve seen you with Blaise, Draco,” Severus murmured. “I take it you know how?”

“Oh, fuck yes I do,” Draco answered, and reached out for Harry’s body. “Can I - touch him now?”

“You may,” Severus answered evenly, and turned back to Harry to kiss him. Draco watched him do it for about two seconds, thinking that Snape really seemed to know how to kiss, before sliding his hand over Harry’s hip and towards his cock. He wrapped his fingers around it, gentle, tentative, and Harry jerked like he’d been shocked. Severus seized Draco’s wrist without even lifting his head. “Careful,” he murmured. “He’s just on the edge.” He pulled back and kissed Harry’s cheek. “You need the ring.”

“No!” Harry said at once. “Severus - no - _please-”_

“No, or red?” Severus asked, and Harry broke off with a little gasp. “If you want Draco to ride you, you’ll need the ring.”

“Do you have - lube - or something that I can use to get myself ready?” Draco asked, flustered to hear his voice come out strangled. “I’d really like to - have him. Now. Or - possibly - last week.” He looked at Snape. “Please.”

“Aren’t you a Wizard?” Severus asked, and summoned his wand to his hand. He pointed it at Harry first, and a silver band appeared around the base of his cock, and then at Draco, who let out a cry of surprise at the sudden warm, slick sensation inside him.

“What the fuck is _-_ oh. Will you teach me that?” 

“Another time, maybe,” Severus answered. “Hands and knees over him, now, if you please.”

Draco did as he was told, crawling back over Harry’s body, straddling him, and resting his hands on his heaving chest, mindful of the welts. Harry whined and lifted his head, and Draco spared one more glance for Severus before meeting his seeking mouth. The cuffs clinked, and Harry moaned, and then Draco did, too, as he felt Snape’s long fingers trail down his back and between his legs. 

“Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself in your excitement,” Severus said, but Draco did not try to answer. He just kept kissing Harry, uninhibited, messy, as Severus set about preparing him for penetration. One finger, then two, scissoring gently, and then finally, a third. They crooked just fractionally, and Draco broke away, crying out against Harry’s shoulder.

“Severus-” Harry gasped, his arms tensing against the restraints. “What are you doing to him? Jesus _Christ.”_

“I’m getting him ready to please you,” Severus answered. “I think he’s enjoying it.”

“Ah, fuck,” Draco moaned, rocking back onto his hand. “I’m so ready - just - let me - please, let me.” 

“As you wish,” Severus said, and withdrew his fingers. 

“Thank _GOD.”_ Draco clutched the headboard with one hand, reaching back to hold Harry steady with the other. “I’ve only been waiting a fucking _year.”_ He lined himself up and began to sink down at once, and Harry had already made a lot of really good noises that night, but just as the head of his cock pushed through, he made a noise that Draco had never heard before in his life. “Harry - _fuck -”_ he gasped, his body going hot and tightening around his spine. “I’m not going to last two seconds if you keep doing that.”

“He can’t help it,” came Severus’ low voice, and Harry’s hips flexed up, and Draco ground down until there was absolutely no more to take, and Harry’s mouth opened, and closed, and opened again.

“Can I - have my - _hands-”_ he asked desperately, tugging down, twisting his wrists this way and that against the rough edge of the leather. “Severus - please - my _hands.”_

Draco lifted himself up and rocked back down. “No,” he said. He was starting to get it, now. No hands, no eyes, no nothing. Just _take it._ “No hands. Let me.” He did it again, and Harry threw his head back against the pillows. 

“I - _can’t - stand it-”_ he sobbed, and Draco started moving a little faster, dropping down a little harder, and rocking forward and back.

“Oh, god, you feel so good,” he moaned, bracing one hand at the base of Harry’s throat, feeling him swallow - feeling the pounding of his heart through his skin. “Fuck - _Harry - YES._ ”

Harry let out a long, keening whine and pressed his feet into the mattress to try to gather some force, but he couldn’t quite manage it. 

_“Draco - please-”_

“Scratch him,” Severus said. “See what happens.”

Draco dug his nails in just below Harry’s collarbones and raked them down, and Harry made a sound like he was about to break apart. “God, you really know what he likes,” he breathed, doing it again, fucking himself on Harry’s cock, sweating from the effort and the sheer scorching heat of the sounds pouring out of Harry’s mouth. 

“Yes I do,” Severus answered. “And the moment I take that ring off he’s going to come so hard he might lose consciousness.”

“DO it,” Draco demanded. “Fucking hell, Snape, let me get him off before he loses his bloody _mind.”_

 _“Pleeeaaasee-”_ Harry squealed. 

“Cover that mouth,” Severus growled, and Draco did, clapping his palm over Harry’s face and digging his fingers in, and Harry moaned desperately, almost in despair, and Draco moved still faster, wrapping the fingers of his free hand around his own cock where it was leaking against his stomach.

“Of _fuck_ that’s so _hot -_ you’re _so-”_ he curled forward, right on the edge. _“Fucking-”_

“If you come on his face I’ll scalp you,” Severus hissed, and Draco tensed, and Harry cried out underneath him at the sudden fearful squeeze of his body.

“I won’t-” Draco said. “I won’t - Merlin, that’s scary. Take the ring off, please - Professor Snape - please, take it off of him. He’s done so well - he - _deserves it.”_

“He does, doesn’t he?” Severus asked, sounding pleased. “He’s such a good boy. _Evanesco.”_

The silver ring vanished, and Harry let out a desperate wail.

“Oh _yes_ _-”_ Draco moaned, riding him harder as his tension peaked and his body began to spasm, pressing Harry’s head back against the pillows as he worked himself faster, chasing his pleasure, closing his fist around the head of his cock at the last second with the single lucid thought - _I do not want to be scalped._

Harry’s hips jerked up just once into his body, and Draco, spilling into his palm, cried out so loudly his voice cracked, and Harry went slack underneath him. He was shaking, almost seizing with aftershocks, and Draco, collapsing forward, only barely caught himself on Harry’s shoulder with his clean hand. 

“Merciful Merlin,” he gasped. “That was - fucking - incredible.”

“Off.” 

“What?”

“Get off of him, right now.”

Draco looked over at Snape sitting in his chair, registered his expression, and scrambled to obey, pulling free with a little wince and pitching to the side. 

“Yes, Sir. Sorry,” he panted, and a towel hit him in the face.

“Take a shower,” Severus growled. 

“But - can’t I…?”

“Watch? No. Get out. First door on the left. Help yourself to the port when you’re done. Don’t leave. Just wait.”

“Yes, Sir.” Draco seized the towel and bolted out into the parlor. His clothes flew out after him, and the door slammed shut. 

Severus turned his wand on Harry and vanished the restraints and the blindfold to see that he was, indeed, quite unconscious. So, he cast a cleaning charm over him, undressed himself, and set about rubbing sensation back into his hands and wrists. It only took a few moments of that treatment for Harry to wake up, and when he did, he murmured and stirred weakly, flexing his fingers.

“Welcome back to the living,” Severus answered softly, kissing his hair, and Harry turned towards him. “How are you feeling?” He hid his face against Severus’ chest. “Mm. You’re so lovely like this.” Harry just buried his face further, his breath hot on Severus’ skin, and stayed quiet, so Severus ran his fingers through his hair, and over his shoulders and back, and waited. Once Harry’s brain reconnected to his body, he would speak. And, after a while, he did speak, thought the words sounded like melted caramel on his lips. 

“Severus…” he trailed off.

“Mm?” Severus prompted, tracing the graceful lines of Harry’s ribs and spine through his skin. These were some of his favorite times - Harry so soft, and sweet, and docile that it almost hurt to be near him.

“You didn’t…?”

“No,” Severus answered. “But don’t concern yourself. You’ve had quite enough for one night, and I’m perfectly happy to wait until morning to have you.”

“No,” Harry murmured, and his hands slid down Severus' chest and then, very hesitantly, between his legs. Severus had hardly flagged at all while Harry was recovering, and a fresh surge of arousal poured down his spine at the tentative touch. “I want to - oh.” Harry exhaled a little breath of what might have been amusement. “You liked it, didn’t you?” His hand closed around him a little more firmly. “You liked watching him on top of me. Turned you on.”

Severus’ hands tightened. He’d been equally excited and incensed by what he’d seen, and right then, wanted rather badly to lay claim to what was his. But Harry had been under his thumb for quite a while. He probably needed sleep, and food, and comfort. 

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked, though what he really wanted to say was _of course it turned me on have you seen yourself?_

“Yeah…’m tired,” Harry answered. “Go easy.”

Goosebumps. 

“Harry…” 

Harry just lifted his head, tipping it back for a kiss, and Severus obliged him. He was helpless to resist, really. 

“Fix me up later,” Harry whispered against his mouth. “Want you, now. C’mon. You can - go easy. I know you can. Where’s Draco?”

“I sent him out.”

Harry laughed a little. “Good,” he breathed, kissing Severus again, languid, and slow, and sensual. “Your turn. C’mon. Fill me up. I want it. Need - need it. Not some boy. You.”

Severus let out a groan, and turned him onto his stomach. “You’re so manipulative,” he hissed, taking up his wand and touching it to Harry’s skin. “How can I say no to such an artful knife right in the heart?”

“I learned from the best.”

“You are evil. I’m quite convinced.”

“So punish me.”

“Mercy, Potter. Mercy.”

“No mercy.” Harry spread his legs, and Severus settled between them, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, and his spine. “You taught me that, too,” Harry continued. “You vicious Deatheater spy. Fucking _deadly assassin-”_ He broke off with a little cry as Severus pressed two fingers into him.

“Who knew I was creating such a monster?” he asked, spreading the conjured lubrication, thrusting his fingers gently in and out, and Harry relaxed back down.

“A pet, you mean.”

“Merlin, Potter. If you’re a pet, I’m a vase.”

Harry lifted his hips a little as Severus’ fingers withdrew. “Mm - If I’m not a pet, what am I?” 

“You? You’re a fucking _demigod,”_ Severus answered, lining himself up. “An Oracle, driving men _mad._ You should have seen your suitor's face when he first laid eyes on you laid out that way.” He rubbed the head of his cock lightly against the entrance to Harry’s body, giving him barely enough pressure to be felt, and Harry nodded furiously against the sheets. “Like you were cast in gold.” 

“Please,” Harry whimpered, trying to press back, and Severus abandoned his teasing.

“I saw his soul leave the moral coil the moment he looked at you,” he murmured, breaching Harry’s body with as much care as he could manage. Sinking in, slow and steady, inch by sweet inch. “And he’s not the only one.” Flush together, he went still. “Do you know how many people look at you that way?”

“Ah - Severus - don’t stop. Fuck me. C’mon.”

“No,” Severus answered, withdrawing minutely and rocking his hips forward. “You said easy, and that’s what you’re going to get. Answer me. Do you know how many people want you?”

“I don’t - care-”

“Don’t you?” he asked, thrusting in to the base and, again, holding himself perfectly still. Harry’s body rippled around him and he exhaled very slowly. “You don’t enjoy the attention? The _obsession?_ The _love?”_

“No,” Harry gasped, reaching back for him and digging his fingertips into his sides. “Just want you. Your attention. Your-” Severus dragged his hips back and thrust then forward. _“O-obsession._ Fuck - your - your-”

“Love?” He pulled Harry’s hands away and pressed them to the mattress. “You have it all, Harry. My _obsession,_ my _love._ You _consume me._ You want Draco? Or the Minister of Magic, or the bloody _queen?_ You can have them. Right on my desk, if it pleases you. But no one can have _you.”_

“Not - _no one,”_ Harry retorted, and Severus fucked him a little harder, annoyed by the implication.

 _“Who then?”_ he demanded. _“Who?”_

“You!” Harry choked out. “Fuck - you - you - _GOD. Who else? Who else-”_ Severus pinned his head to the bed and he moaned rapturously. 

“That’s _right,”_ Severus hissed. “Me.” He bit down on the soft flesh between Harry’s neck and shoulder and sealed his lips around it.

“Oh fuck - _yes - harder-”_ Severus let out a growl and obeyed him, fucking him harder, biting him harder, pining him down _harder._ His restraint never lasted as long as he’d like under the unbearable pressure of Harry’s voice. He fucking _snapped,_ every time. Just like he had that first time. “Yes - Severus _\- yes-”_

Heat burst over Severus’ nerves, and he tore his mouth away from Harry’s skin. _“Mine,”_ he snarled. _“MINE.”_ He bit down again, sinking his teeth in to his shoulder, and Harry gasped his name, open-mouthed and desperate into the pillows, and Severus thrust forward hard, losing any semblance of rhythm, seizing the headboard with one fist. 

_“More-”_

***

Draco sat in an armchair, his eyes wide, jiggling his knee up and down as he clutched his second glass of port. He’d been pretty sure that Harry couldn’t take any more, but judging by the sounds drifting out of the bedroom, he’d been wrong about that. Harry sounded like he was getting off _again._ And certainly Severus Snape was getting off - or possibly he was an unregistered animagus and he’d transformed into a fucking _wolf_ and was tearing Harry to _shreds._ Just - ripping him apart in there. 

_Go ahead and tell yourself you wouldn’t fucking beg to take whatever he is getting right now. Good lord. What kind of universe have you stumbled into?_

He took another sip and then slopped some into his lap as he heard a cry, and then a series of sharp thumps like a wrought iron bed frame hitting a wall. And then silence.

“Ooh, god, finally,” he whispered to himself. “Fucking hell.” He vanished the spill, and cast a refilling charm on the bottle. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he poured two more glasses, crossed his legs and then uncrossed them, and wondered if he should just… leave. But Snape told him to wait - ordered him, really - and he was certainly not going to disobey the man at this particular juncture of his life. No, sir. Nope. 

So, he waited, trying to arrange himself in a nonchalant manner, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open. Severus appeared first, fully dressed, and Draco’s eyes danced over him as if seeking some visual sign of the animal frenzy he’d just exited, but there was nothing. He looked quite composed, though the top several buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing a web of red scarring. Draco looked away like it was something forbidden, and his eyes fell immediately on Harry, and he flushed. Because Merlin, Harry looked forbidden, too. He was wrapped in a plush black dressing gown, his cheeks pink, and his eyes shockingly green, and there was a new red bite mark high on his neck. 

“Oh,” Draco said. “Harry. You look -” He swallowed. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Harry answered, giving him a small smile and raking one hand through his hair. It was already absolutely wild, and that only made it worse. Or better, or whatever. 

He was beautiful. 

“So sorry to keep you waiting,” Severus said blandly, as if he’d been caught up in a staff meeting instead of pounding the life out of a _current student._ “Harry wasn’t quite satisfied.” Harry smacked him, and Severus caught his wrist and pulled him down onto the sofa and into his arms. The movement was smooth and familiar, and Harry melted back against him without even token resistance. They’d obviously been doing this for a while.

Severus wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist, pressed a kiss to his temple, and then looked right at Draco like he wanted him to say something. 

Draco stiffened.

What was he supposed to say? _Thank you?_ Or… _Does Harry need medical attention?_ Or, _Want to go again?_ Or… uh… _how the fuck am I ever supposed to look at either of you again without popping one?_

“So…” he began, and laughed awkwardly. “Somehow I am suddenly shy. Wine?” He gestured to the glasses he’d poured. “I suppose it’s rude to offer you your own wine.”

“Yes it is,” Severus answered, taking the glasses and handing one to Harry. “Terribly rude of you.”

“Be nice he’s scared,” Harry muttered, and yawned, snuggling closer in towards Severus’ chest and sipping at the port. But then he paused, and looked at his hand. “Oh,” he said, holding it out for Severus to see the tremor in his fingers. “I think I need food.” 

“Mm. You took quite a lot tonight,” Severus said into his hair, and Draco suddenly felt very strongly that he was intruding on something personal. Much more personal than all that… other stuff. “Food, or dessert?”

“Oh, dessert,” Harry laughed. “Yeah. Not food. Chocolate.”

“Draco?” Severus asked, and he jumped. 

“What? Oh. Uh. Yes, please, thank you.”

“Relax,” Severus answered, extricating himself from Harry to floo the kitchens. “You did fine.”

“No scalping, then?” he asked, fighting to call up some irony, or scorn, or _something._ But all he could think of was the bed frame hitting the wall. He wondered if it left a mark, and blushed, and Severus laughed at him. Harry didn’t laugh, though. Harry just stretched out on the sofa, reaching his arms over his head and arching his back with a luxurious groan. The hem of his dressing gown rode up with the movement, and Draco watched him do it, and then looked away, thinking that the entire earth had shifted on its axis. And that if he stared at Harry too hard when he was like this, he’d be blinded.

“C’mere,” Harry said, and Draco looked back up to see Harry beckoning to him. When he didn’t move right away, Harry rolled his eyes and gestured at the sofa under his legs. “Draco. Come here.”

“But…” Draco looked over at Severus at the fireplace, and back at Harry’s bare legs. “Um. Isn’t he… kind of…”

“Possessive? Yeah. Doesn’t mean you can’t sit on the same sofa as me. You were sitting _on_ _me_ like half an hour ago.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He stood up, smoothing down his shirt, and Harry lifted his legs, and then laid them across Draco’s lap when he sat down. “Are you… cold, or anything?” Draco asked, hesitantly running his hands down Harry’s calves and over his feet. He didn’t feel cold - he felt quite warm, actually - but he was shaking. 

“Nah,” Harry said with a content sigh, sinking further into the cushions. “Just, sort of - crashing. That happens. It’ll stop when I eat something.”

“Oh.” Draco’s eyes traveled from Harry’s feet in his lap, up his body, and settled on the triangle of skin exposed in the open V of his robe. The lash marks were more visible than ever - raised and darkening - and Draco thought he must have gotten hit pretty hard. “Doesn’t that hurt?” he blurted out, and Harry looked down at himself.

“What, that?” He opened the cloth a little more. “Yeah. Kinda the point, though.”

“Provisions for our Lord and Master,” Severus said, returning with a platter piled high with sweets. He did not comment on Draco’s new position under Harry’s legs. “The house elves certainly have a soft spot for you, Mr. Potter.” He hovered the platter in the air before the sofa, and Harry sat up to let him reclaim his spot. 

Draco watched Severus settle in with his arm back around Harry’s waist, and select a chocolate truffle rolled in crushed hazelnuts.

“Open,” Severus said, and brought it to Harry’s lips, and Harry obeyed. 

Draco’s mouth started to water almost at once, but not for the chocolate. He shifted, and swallowed, and Harry’s eyes flicked up at him, heavy-lidded and glittering under his black lashes. Draco let out an embarrassing little squeak as Harry finished the chocolate and parted his lips for another, and then another embarrassing noise as two of Severus’ fingers dipped into his mouth instead. Harry didn’t seem to mind that, though. He closed his lips around them and his cheeks hollowed.

“Oh, god,” Draco breathed as Harry’s feet slid across his legs. “Ohh, fuck me. No.”

Severus laughed unkindly and withdrew his fingers to reach for another chocolate. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Draco,” he said. “I’m risking my reputation and possibly my life to have this satanic incubus in my lap.”

“I’m not _satanic,”_ Harry answered, licking chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “I’m just regular.”

“You convince _no one,_ Potter,” Severus whispered, turning his face into his hair and meeting Draco’s eyes. “We can all see you.”

“Don’t call me Potter while your come is still dripping down my legs, _Sir,”_ Harry shot back, and Draco let out a little gasp at his vulgarity.

“That’s- ah- pretty satanic,” he said. 

“He’s said far worse to me before staff meetings. I think he likes to send me to work in a state of painful distraction.” Severus wrapped his fingers around Harry’s throat and tipped his head back against his chest. “Tell dear Draco what you said after midterms, Harry.”

“Mm,” Harry murmured, in apparent appreciation of the hand around his neck. “I don’t remember. Remind me.”

“Oh, something about choking on my cock and begging for more, I believe,” Severus said. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Harry answered, sinking still deeper into Severus’ embrace and sliding his legs further into Draco’s lap. Draco ran his knuckles up the sole of one bare foot, wondering if it would be forward to start rubbing it. “You had me bent over your desk and told me not to be so loud, and I said it wouldn’t be a problem if you could fuck me and fill my mouth at the same time. Can’t get loud if I can’t breathe, can I?” His eyes sparkled mischievously, and Draco, almost lightheaded, looked at Snape to see his eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Say thank you before you forget, Draco,” he said.

“Thank you,” Draco echoed, and Harry turned his face towards the cushions. 

“Now you’re embarrassing me,” he said.

“Liar,” Severus answered. “You bask in the attention. Eat more.” He reached out for a cherry cordial, and Harry very obediently opened his mouth to receive it, closing his eyes and relaxing back.

“I have a question,” Draco said, running his hands over Harry’s legs again, enjoying the feeling of his skin. It was quite heady being able to just… touch him. Harry Potter had been absolutely off limits since they met at the tender age of eleven. And now, here he was, laid out on a sofa with two people that were definitely not supposed to be fucking him.

“I’m sure it’s incisive,” Severus murmured, his attention focused fiercely on Harry as he licked sugar from his lips. “Impress me with your penetrating wit.”

“It’s not that incisive,” Draco began. “But… how did this-” he gestured at Harry. “Happen in the first place?”

“Mm,” Harry murmured. “That’s a secret.”

Severus fed him a cluster of pecans and caramel. “Draco’s heard you begging, my love. Is it really a secret?”

“Ooh, did I say anything embarrassing?” Harry yawned. “Sometimes I _really beg.”_

“You really begged,” Severus answered. “Though I wouldn’t describe it as embarrassing, exactly.”

“Scorching,” Draco breathed.

“Ha,” Harry said. “Fine. Well, if you want to know, I came to Severus’ office and we had a row. After the war. After he was… better. Healed, I mean.”

“Harry wanted to confront me about my mistreatment of him in school.”

“He called me an ungrateful brat.”

“Romantic,” Draco said.

“Yes, well, you are a brat,” Severus answered fondly.

“Not ungrateful now, though, am I?”

“Not anymore, no.”

Harry turned his head and Severus kissed the corner of his mouth.

“So, what?” Draco prompted. They were getting distracted. “You had a row, and then…?”

“As you might have guessed, Draco, our dear Savior gets rather excited by violence,” Severus continued, fishing out another cherry and slipping it between Harry’s lips. Draco thought he might be doing that to keep him quiet. “He shouted at me, shoved me, and I lost my temper.”

“Slammed me against the wall,” Harry murmured. 

Draco could picture it easily after what he’d just seen. The face Harry must have made - the _noise._ How could anyone have resisted?

“So… you just…?”

“My self control failed me.”

“Right on the floor,” Harry added. “Fucking _hot.”_

“In your _office?”_ Draco gasped, appalled. 

“I cast a silencing charm,” Severus said. “Four of them, actually.”

Harry reached up behind him and sank his fingers into Severus’ hair. “Never felt anything like it in my life,” he said. “He took me _apart.”_

Draco’s toes curled under in his shoes, imagining Harry on his back on the floor of Severus’ office. Or on his knees. Or… his hands and knees. “That is… quite a story,” he said, and hesitated. “Can I ask you one more thing?” 

“Sure,” Harry answered, and Draco’s eyes traveled over his face, and the bruises on his chest, and up to his hand in Severus’ hair. What a fucking pair these two were. Absolutely mad.

“When can I come back?”

  
  



End file.
